Stipe
by lamentomori
Summary: "A goal isn't enough, not in our situation. A goal is only good enough in soccer. What we need is a plan, and a good plan at that." A story set in a world where people with gifts that defy reality live unnoticed, a story about two boys, who are facing a whole new batch of problems. Warnings Slash (Colt/Punk), smut, profanity, AU setting. Sequel to Rhizomorph - I'd read it first.
1. Stipe

_Warnings: Sequel to **Rhizomorph**,Slash (Colt/Punk) Profanity, Future smut, AU setting and 1st person perspective opening chapter - 3rd person in subsequent ones._

* * *

><p>People meet people, every day you meet people. It's something we've all done, and meeting gods is pretty common too, even if you don't know it. Every day you meet people with incredible powers, and whilst you don't know it, I do. There are times I wish I was like you, that I was ignorant of the other <em>gods<em>, but I'm not. I'm not like you, but there are _times_ I wish I was, more recently, but that's for something to talk about later.

Not every person you meet is important, well important to you at least. _Everyone_ is important to someone. There are no _unimportant_ people, not really, some people are more important than others, and there are some people that when you meet them you know it. You just _know_ that they're going to be invaluable to you, they're going to be someone that you're going to want to keep forever. They're the type of person you hope wants to keep you just as long. The type of person you _need_.

The day I met Scott, Colt now I guess, the day I met him I _knew_ he was going to be important. I'd never had a friend before, never met someone like him before, and I knew he was going to important to me. I didn't know the full extent of just how important he was going to be, but I knew he was important.

He's like my missing half, my deficiencies are his strengths, and visa versa. His power is kind of the opposite of mine, control over body and not mind. Is it more powerful to bypass the mental, and go straight to the physical? There's a part of me that wants to try my own power against him properly. That football game, it wasn't a fair test, I didn't know we were playing and that wasn't fair. But over the time I've known Colt, I've learnt that there's not a lot of anything that's fair in life. If the World were fair, I don't think the Warehouse would have gone down the way it did. If the World were fair, Amy and the kids wouldn't be fuck knows where. If the World were fair, we wouldn't be _dead_. If the World were fair I wouldn't be picking my way through the garbled memories of Heyman.

I've never met anyone like Scott, my Colt, my other half, and after everything we've been through together it still feels weird to think of him in those terms, but he is _mine_. Together we brought down Heyman, we brought down Lesnar, we lost those kids, but we did set them free, hopefully at least. We did something wonderful (kind of), we did something impressive (mostly), we did something fucking dumb.

Now... I'm not sure what we're doing, hiding out in the city, hiding out together, getting to know each other better, getting to know each other's bodies better, and waiting for someone to try and find us. I don't doubt that someone will come for us eventually. They won't be fooled forever.

Piper and Hacksaw might have vanished after we convinced the general populace that Scott Colton and Philip Jack Brooks were dead. It was kind of surprising how quickly they gave up, but I can't say I mind overly. I've not finished sorting though Heyman's memories, but there's nothing that paints _anyone_ in a particularly good light so far. The whole thing is a shady mess of disjointed thoughts and half-remembered places. Making sense of everything I have in my head is taking time, and I know it's worrying Colt. I know he wants to be _doing_ something. I know that sitting watching me sort through things he can't help me with frustrates him.

I know Heyman's memories are tainted, but in this whole mess, the only person who seems to have not had much in the way of an ulterior motive was Heyman himself. He was creepy, and he definitely had designs on me that I was in no way intending to indulge. As pitiful and kind of fifties romantic as it is, I don't want anyone else to touch me. Colt is my first, my only, and I'm more than happy with that idea. His hands, his body, his lips, his mind, they're the only ones I want, _he's_ the only one I want. I think that's probably a little pathetic. I mean, there might be a whole world of awesome sex that I'm missing out on, but I don't care, I don't want it, I want what I have, I _love_ what I have, I love Colt. It's taken me a long time, far longer than it really should have, but I _know_ I love him. Just the touch of his hand against mine, the warmth of his breath on my neck, even the thought of him sitting beside me fills me with this stupid giddy happiness. This wasn't what I wanted to be talking about. Sorry, I get distracted, it's not my fault. Love... It's a great and terrible thing really, and it sidetracks even gods.

Heyman was a mercenary, a man motivated by money, and his children. Both ungifted and being raised by a family convinced that they're their own. Heyman worked for money to send to his children, they were his only motivation, his only interest. Apart from the creepy observation that he thought I was _pretty_, Heyman's interest in me went as far as wondering how strong he could make me. He wanted to mould me into something dangerous, something deadly, something I'm not sure I could be. Sure, I've killed, twice now, and I did whatever it is I did to Heyman, I'm still not entirely sure what that was, but I'm not the weapon Heyman saw me as. I don't want to be little more than something you point at your enemies and pull the trigger. I don't think I could be, no matter what Heyman thought, I don't think I could be moulded into that kind of monster.

It's been three months since the warehouse burned down, three months of me trying to make sense of Heyman's memories, three months of Colt and I trying to plan what we're going to do. There's more to this whole situation. On one side there's the shady people Heyman worked for, and on the other there's the equally shady people Piper's employed by. Heyman's memories are fuzzy, like a copy of a copy of a copy, but I _think_ the Old Man with the vision Piper told me about is the same one Heyman worked for. There's a strange hazy memory of a teenage Heyman talking to a younger Piper, of Piper telling him about an organisation that could help him. It's all circular, and I don't know what to trust as true and what to trust as a fabrication made up by Heyman to distract me. I don't doubt that in his last moments of clarity Heyman would be strong enough to pull a stunt like that.

There's a part of me that feels something like loyalty to Piper, he helped me more than he had to, but that might have been motivated by his desire to recruit Colt and me. We're something that both sides, if there really are two sides, want. Based on Heyman's memories, we're valuable, as valuable as the little sequencer. I still don't know enough about the kids. Heyman's memories of them are somewhere in amongst the mess I pulled from his head, but I'm not sure where. There's no order, everything's tangled up like a string of Christmas tree lights, and I can't find the start of the strand.

I might be nowhere near through trying to make sense of the information I have from Heyman, but I can tell something's going to happen soon. There's something in the air, and it's not just the weather getting colder. I think Colt can sense it too, he seems _restless_, more restless, but truth be told I am too. We need to do something, but this time we need to plan.

A goal isn't enough, not in our situation. A goal is only good enough in soccer. What we need is a plan, and a good plan at that, because something's coming, I just don't know what.

* * *

><p><em>Hello<em>_ ladies and gentlemen! Did you come back? If so, hi! It's good to see you again! If you're new, go have a read of_ _**Rhizomorph **that'll help things make more sense. _

_Second arc, and once more we start with Punk's journal. (I had initially wanted him to have these Rorschach's Journal moments throughout the whole thing, but when getting into deeper planning we decided that would be more hassle than it was worth, however he'd getting his two pence [3 US cents] worth in now.)_

_If I thought I was concerned about the first part of this story, you have no idea just how freaked out by this one I am..._

__As ever trepidation haunts me with this fic... as such: _**__**_Please leave a review, even if it's just "Hey, that didn't suck", I'd be so far and beyond grateful. Heck even if you thought it did suck, tell me too, something is better than nothing after all. :D_**__**_


	2. Piper's Pit

_Warnings: Slash (Colt/Punk) (Hacksaw Jim Duggan/Rowdy Roddy Piper), __Profanity, Future smut, AU setting, _Sequel to **Rhizomorph.**

* * *

><p>In all the years Piper had been working for them, he'd never wanted a desk job. He'd always loved being out on the field, but that'd changed. The Warehouse had been a fiasco, and he's known it was going to be from the first time he'd picked a little hint of it out of the kid's head. Phil was a good kid, plenty strong, but not well shielded in the least. It was frustrating that no matter how hard Piper tired to get him to improve his shields; he always seemed more concerned with keeping his knight in shining armour safe. They hadn't been able to protect each other in the end though, and knowing that he'd failed burned in Piper's mind. He'd wanted to protect those two, and now they're dead.<p>

Hack had been as supportive as ever, but it's almost a given at this stage in their relationship. In the beginning, they'd both been wild creatures, clashing heads, driving wedges between them, though that was mostly Piper to be fair. He'd spent the majority of his formative years alone. He'd never clicked, never tied to a biopath, and when he met Hack, it'd thrown him for a loop. The bonding wasn't something he'd expected, he'd touched this new biopath's mind, and then there was a _link_ set up between them, a link that no matter how hard he tired to he could never unravel it, and Piper had tried to be rid of it so very hard. He'd hated having someone in his head permanently, he'd hated the access to his emotions it gave Hack, hated the way Hack's emotions bled over to him, but most of all he hated the _concern_. People did not concern themselves with Piper beyond if he could and _would_ help them. Hacksaw had been concerned over _everything_. From how much Piper drank, to what drugs he was taking, to the people he slept with, to what food he'd eaten, everything was Hack's concern and it infuriated him. Over the years, he'd grown used to Hack, and then had grown to rely on him, up until the point they're at now, where without him Piper would be lost. Phil and Scott though, they'd bonded deep from the word go, they fell in love with the kind of carefree abandon that only children have. Their bond was beautiful and strong, but it wasn't enough to save them.

There were so many charred corpses in that Warehouse, even if the majority of the talents who'd refused Heyman survived, a few didn't make it, and there were so many charred drone guards, so many corpses burned beyond recognition. Philip Jack Brooks, and Scott Colton are dead. They have to be. It didn't stop Piper from hanging around in Chicago though, didn't stop him from spending months looking for any sign of them having gotten away. There was nothing though, and the bitter taste of failure had filled Piper with a dark malaise. He'd failed plenty of times before, Heyman was one great big ball of spectacular fucking up on Piper's part, but the princess and his knight was a sharp defeat. He'd expected Heyman to want to keep Phil, and by extension Scott, if only because they had such potential, being _so_ bonded when they were _so_ young would make them formidable as they grew older, but _something_ happened in that Warehouse, something that Heyman still lying in his hospital bed can't explain.

Heyman is perhaps the biggest casualty of the whole debacle. Paul was a damn strong telepath, and Phil had shredded his shields, and looted his mind. Everything in Heyman's head is sharp and jagged, the stunt Phil pulled on him isn't something Piper taught him, and he highly doubts it was something Heyman taught him, so it was either Phil acting on instinct or someone else was whispering in his ear. Piper doesn't think the latter is likely but you never know. Paul's head is in a mess, and Lesnar is dead, but then so are Phil and Scott. The Warehouse was a mess in every conceivable way.

The other major problem is that the targets got away. He'd done a good enough job of convincing Phil that he was the best person to take care of them, and he was sure that the three children would be presented to him without too much hassle, but when he'd arrived, they'd been gone. The telekinetic who Phil had taken to be trained by Hack was gone too, and Phil and Scott were gone, or more likely dead. There was no one who'd been close enough to tell him what had happened. None of the talents who'd survive the fiasco had any memories of any of the people Piper was interested in. To be fair, there were memories, but none of them were useful in the least. He doesn't need to know that Scott saved so many of their lives, he doesn't need to know that Phil found the kids, only to lose them, he doesn't need to know that the fire and smoke were thick and black, and every one of those talents had been fucking scared out of their wits by it. What he needs to know, Heyman could _maybe_ tell him if it wasn't for the fact Heyman can barely remember how to swallow. A team of telepaths have been working to repair his mind, but Phil did a hell of a number on him. Fixing the severed links, patching over the gaping holes, it's all taking time, and for the last nearly two years all the team has managed to do is help Heyman remember to piss in the toilet and not his pants. It's not much of an achievement for two years work really.

After the Warehouse, after his hanging about in Chicago, Piper had requested a desk job. He didn't want more blood on his hands. The deaths of the princess and the knight weighed on him far more heavily than any other death he'd either directly or indirectly caused, and he wanted to be able to do some good for a change. They'd sent him to the training facility were the majority of the talents from the Warehouse had been sent, and so he'd found himself in the role of teacher. He's not sure he thrives on it, but he's doing okay, and Hack loves it, which is almost the most important thing. He's sure Hack is grateful for not having to be so very worried about him for a change. A nice cushy desk job isn't likely to kill Piper, and so that's a weight lifted from Hack's mind.

He feels for Hack, Piper didn't just lose the princess, Hack lost the knight, but as is a biopath's wont, he ignores the bitter taste of defeat and focuses on keeping his telepath safe, and happy. It always seems like he's got the better end of the deal, his concerns begin and end with Piper, Piper's cover the whole rest of humanity, but Hack had liked Scott. Though he'd deny it, he'd felt a kinship with Scott, someone who had meet their telepath, and despite _knowing_ that they were meant for each other, Phil, like every other telepath, didn't trust his instincts. It's a curse of telepathy. Your instincts can just as easily be someone else's, a telepath's mind is so easily influenced when they're young, and they _never_ grow out of that hesitation to trust their gut. Hack has always claimed that Piper never thinks things through, that he never plans, but the opposite is true. He thinks, and over-thinks, and re-thinks again and again, making countless plans but then he doesn't trust them. Over the years, he's seen too many plans go awry, so rolling with the punches became easier. Piper knows Hack shared his insight and ruminations on telepathy with Scott, but what the knight in shining armour made of it, Piper has no idea. Phil kept Scott's mind locked down tight. He's never encountered shields like that before, shields so strong, so unbreachable that he'd not even know Scott was with Phil if he didn't see them together. He's never come across a bond like Phil and Scott's, and it'd been fascinating, but he'd never gotten to study it. Phil's shields had improved, and eventually they were serviceable, but not good enough, _never_ good enough to protect him, but that link with Scott was untouchable.

Piper sighs, and glances at the calendar on his desk. Nearly two years since the Warehouse, nearly two years of his nice safe desk job, nearly two years of trying to find the targets, and trying to piece Heyman back together. The first anniversary had gotten him all maudlin and contemplating drinking again. It'd taken Hack hours of careful, gentle reassurances, and tender touches to get him to put the bottle down, and let Hack take care of him. It's foolish to resist, but he can't help it. Years of being alone aren't erased by finding someone who loves you, they're merely faded, he's not sure he'll ever fully relax, he'll never be able to fully _give_ himself to Hack the way Phil did with Scott. They'd met so young, had fallen so deep, and had understood the _necessity_ of their relationship so well. It'd been beautiful to watch Phil get so distracted by even the smallest thought of Scott. Hack had told him that Scott was generally a pretty easygoing kid, but at the first hint that something might happen to his princess, he was _dangerous_. Possessive, protective, dedicated, they're the words that fit best to describe the biopath mindset towards their telepath, on the reverse, Piper's never known how to describe his feelings. Grateful features strongly, there's a gratitude for the silence from the noise of the rest of humanity, but there's more to it, covetousness, greed, the burning certainty if someone tries to take their biopath away the telepath will destroy anyone and _everyone_ in the way of getting them back. It's a complicated connection for both parties. Yet, even a bond as strong as the one between Phil and Scott hadn't been enough to survive that Warehouse. Whenever Piper thinks of that night, he can't help but descend into one of these pensive, dark moods that Hack'll have to spend hours cuddling him out of.

"It's been a while, Piper." Piper looks up at the voice that jolts him from his circular thoughts, and stares at the ghost in front of him, because the person that voice belongs to is dead, but they're sitting on the chair opposite him, feet on the desk, a smirk on their lips.

"_Phil_..." Piper breathes, and the kid laughs, shaking his head, taking his feet from the desk.

"_Phil_ is dead." The kid smiles, and Piper stares at him. He looks different, his legs longer, his body a little more rounded out, less like a timid little mouse, and more like the man he'll grow up to be. "You can call me Punk." He extends a hand, and Piper takes it, testing the kid's shields. Smooth, impenetrable, as good as the shields he'd built around his knight in shining armour. Shields so good that if you didn't know he was there you wouldn't find him. Shields so good it'd be easy to hide behind them for the nearly two years that Piper and every other telepath had been told to keep an eye out just in case.

"Why are you here, _Punk_?" Piper laces his fingers, trying to act nonchalant, but he knows it's failing. The kid isn't there for a friendly chat, he's got something on his mind, and Piper wants to know what.

"Why am I here?" He smiles easily, and Piper frowns at him. He looks so damned relax, so damned confident, so damned like he knows he has Piper on the back foot and against the ropes. "I'm here for training of course." His smile gets bigger, and Piper can't stop his frown from deepening. _'You do still wanna train me don't you?'_ He smiles easily, and Piper frowns, wondering if the kid has gotten good at slipping past other people's shields. There's something _cocky_ about his mental voice that hadn't been there before. It seems that at nineteen the kid has grown to be very confident in his abilities.

_'The offer was always open, Punk.'_ Piper shrugs, trying to reconcile the smirking young man opposite him with the tired child he'd trained. It's hard to reconcile the two, the young man opposite him isn't the trembling child he and Hack picked up off a street corner one night. The young man opposite him isn't the same child he'd gone to talk to in that church so long ago.

"Well, good." Punk smiles at him, and Piper has decided that this is _Punk_; it's sure as hell not _Phil_ sitting opposite him. He's very much a different more calculated person, Phil would have come with all of his frail uncertainty, not this calm confidence that Punk exudes. Phil was frail and timid, Punk is calm, collected, knows what he's there for, and is clearly waiting to play his hand.

"Where's the knight in shining armour?" Piper asks, fidgeting in his chair, and Punk smirks at him, a fond light in his eyes.

"Colt? Don't worry about him. How are you, Hack?" Punk turns to Hacksaw, and Piper scowls. He'd been playing a little mental game, keeping Hack hidden from anyone else who might be in the office, so he could rub Piper's too tense shoulders in peace, but Punk can see him, Piper's trick not working on him.

"I'm good..." Hack moves and stands beside, rather than behind, Piper. "I'm glad to see you're not dead."

"Nope, very much alive." Punk grins, and Piper glances up a Hack.

_'He changed...'_ There's a glut of concern from Hack, and Piper nods, not really trusting his link to keep his conversation with Hack secret, the smirk on Punk's face says that there's not much that he isn't aware of, that he's been there for a lot longer than Piper thinks.

"People change, Hack... They get older, _stronger_." Piper narrows his eyes, and Punk sits up straighter, leaning forward in his chair, looking amused by something. "I'm guessing the knight's here, so why not stop playing us, and we'll _all_ have a nice little conversation." Whatever illusion Punk had been playing drops, and the knight is leaning against the back of the chair Punk's sitting in, his arms draped around Punk's shoulders, his chin resting on top of Punk's head.

"Hello." He grins, and Piper nods at him. He doesn't look too much different, a little older maybe, but on the whole, he still looks about the same. "It's nice to see you both again... I like the office... But it's a little pokey, don't you think?" He laughs, and Punk rests his hands on the knight's arms. "Colt." He grins, and Piper nods once more. Even though he can see the knight, can see _Colt_, he can't sense him. The shields Punk has in place are even stronger, even more solid. Punk's a damned possessive bastard when it comes to his biopath.

"You're sure you want training? You both seem pretty _capable_." Hack says, and Piper snorts, capable is putting it mildly. Phil was always strong, always had potential, but it seems that Piper sorely underestimated just how much potential Punk had. He's not just strong, he's incredible, and to be able to handle the strength of Punk's talent, his Colt must be just as impressively powerful. There'd been a lot of underestimation of both of them by Piper _and_ Heyman. They'd both thought to mould Phil into what they wanted, but it seems Phil had had a game plan all along, and his game plan is good, _Punk_ is an impressive creature.

"Capable maybe..." Punk smirks, and Piper finds he doesn't trust that smirk. It's far too privately amused, far too privately aware of far too much. _'But out of the loop... We get trained by you, and well, then we're part of the team, aren't we?'_ Punk smirks, and Piper rubs his temple. Punk's not hiding the fact that if he wanted to, he could gleefully knock Piper's shields down, and take the information he wants. It's courtesy that has Punk and Colt in this office nothing more. They want information and answers to whatever questions they've been cooking up for the last two years.

"A little training never hurt." Piper says coolly, and Punk nods. "We've room for you both. I'll inform HQ."

_'Do we get to meet them?'_ Punk's smirk grows, making him look like a smug feline, and Piper shakes his head. He doesn't think introducing Punk and Colt to anyone from HQ is a good idea. He can see many terrible things happening if these two get to Stanford. The Old Man would piss his pants, though Piper isn't sure if that would be in fear or delight. _'Pity...'_ Punk smirks, and Piper sighs, standing, getting an odd concerned look from Hack.

"Where the fuck were you two? I was fucking worried sick." Pipe starts staring out of the window, and he can feel Hack moving to stand against his side, his arm creeping around Piper's shoulders, pulling him in close. "I've been fucking looking for you for _two_ fucking years, and you come waltzing in here looking like the cats that got the canary _and_ the fucking cream without a single word of fucking explanation, and you want me to fucking goddamn well _train_ you!" Piper turns to glare at Punk and Colt, and he can't say he's surprised when all that greets him is a mild expression from Colt, and a raised eyebrow from Punk. "I thought you little shits were _dead_." Piper slumps into his chair, batting Hack's hand away from him. "I fucking _mourned_ your stupid selfish asses! You couldn't let me know you were okay? You couldn't let me know you were alive? I didn't give a shit what you were doing, I just wanted you to not be dead, princess." Piper bangs his fist on the table, his shoulders shaking, the emotions he'd bleeding to Hack must be giving him a headache because they're hurting Piper more than enough. Two years of rage, of grief, of concern all spilling out at once, and he feels slightly empty for it. Punk reaches over to Piper, and pats his hand gently.

"We were busy." Colt smiles, and Piper nods. He's no doubts they were busy, doing what, and where is what he'd like to know, but it's pretty clear they're not going to tell him.

"For what it's worth, I was going to mention not being dead a year ago, but things happened, and we didn't have time." Punk smiles, and Piper stares at him, wondering just what these two have been up to. "We would like some training though..." Punk smiles, and beneath the bravado, beneath the calm confidence, there's Phil, nervous timid Phil. Piper stands, moving around the desk.

"Stand up, brat." He snaps, and Punk stands. He's gotten taller, a little taller than Piper is, behind Punk, Colt looks tense, his eyes narrowed, clearly concerned that Piper is going to try and hurt his precious Punk. "C'mere you." Piper grabs Punk, and holds him close. It's ridiculous, but he's relieved the kid is okay, he's relieved the kid is alive. He'd known when he'd met Phil two years ago that he'd cause a whole heap of problems for someone, and even then, Piper had suspected that someone would be him. _'I'm fucking glad you're not dead, brat.'_ Piper kisses Punk's temple, and the kid laughs softly, his arms wrapped just as tight around Piper.

"Me too, old man, me too." What happens next, Piper isn't sure, but there is one thing he's certain of, and that's he's happy to see Phil, he's happy to see Punk, he's happy his little princess survived the fiasco of the Warehouse.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you to the lovely ladies and gentlemen who reviewed! <em>

**_Rebellecherry, littleone 1389, Brokenspell77, InYourHonour, Moiself, Shiki94._**

_First chapter proper... Sorry for the delay... Christmas happened! I hope it was somewhat worth the wait. ^-^_

_If I thought I was concerned about the first part of this story, you have no idea just how freaked out by this one I am...___ Trepidation haunts me with this fic... as such: _**__**_Please leave a review, even if it's just "Hey, that didn't suck", I'd be so far and beyond grateful. Heck even if you thought it did suck, tell me too, something is better than nothing after all. :D_**__**_


	3. Initiating Loyalty Mission

_Warnings: Slash (Colt/Punk) (Hacksaw Jim Duggan/Rowdy Roddy Piper), Minor Het (John Cena/Nikki Bella) (Daniel Bryan/Brie Bella), __Profanity, Future smut, AU setting, _Sequel to **Rhizomorph.**

* * *

><p>The training centre is nice, and that's about all John is able to say about it. It's a nice place to call home base, but that's about it really. When he'd first come two years ago, there'd been a busload of them, all of them scared and confused, suffering from smoke inhalation and bewilderment. The Warehouse had been terrifying. The way it'd caught fire, the way those drones had started shooting, the way everything had gone to shit, and the way that those two guys had looked so calm and focused the whole time.<p>

They'd been kids, no older than John, maybe even a little younger, but they'd looked like they knew what was going to happen, and it'd intrigued him. By nature John's a cautious kind of person, he takes risks but only calculated ones, and there'd been something about those two that had screamed that they were more than willing to take the sort of risks he never would. He'd watched them carefully, had watched the whole group of other talents carefully really, trying to remember them from the first visit he'd made. John had remembered those two right away. The first time, they'd come together, not on the bus with everyone else, but with Heyman, and they'd stood so close that it was obvious that they were together. They'd gone around asking everyone what their talents were, and had offered absolutely no information about their own. They were smart, canny, and far better than the rest of the rag-tag group of talents assembled by Heyman that day, that much had been obvious even from that first visit. The second time John had seen them, it'd been blatantly obvious that they were far above everyone else in the group, so good compared to everyone else that it was laughable to try to make the comparison in the first place.

John's never been great with names, and when Piper walks through the facility, flanked by those two guys from the Warehouse, and tailed by a harried looking Hacksaw, John is left fishing for their names. He _knows_ that they'd given them when they'd first met, but what they are John can't recall.

"Hey... Isn't that the guy who saved your life?" Daniel mutters, and John stares at them even harder, willing names to come to him, but none do, and he wishes they would. "In the Warehouse, he stopped that drone from shooting you. You remember, right?" Daniel fidgets, and stands, drawing the attention of one of the two other members of their group. There are four of them in total. John, the default leader thanks to his personality, and talent. He's a confident guy, sure of himself to a fault, and it makes him a natural leader. His talent, his strength, makes his more than strong enough to protect every other member of his little team. Daniel is a natural fit for the second position, a nice guy and a fairly decent telekinetic, but much more laidback and subdued than John, he's happy in the role of second in command. Then there's the girls, the beautiful, funny, charming girls. Nikki, and her sister Brie. Daniel has it bad for Brie, you can see it in his eyes when he looks at her, and whilst it's lovely and sweet, it's kind of sad really. Brie is just as bad, both of them dancing around what is obvious to John and Nikki. John isn't sure if he's as interested in Nikki as Daniel is in Brie, but he'd not say no if she said she was interested. She's brash and confident, where Brie is mild and shy. Nikki is the fire she controls, and Brie is the ice she wields. They'd not been at the Warehouse, not like John and Daniel, rather they'd grown up in the facility, their parents having dumped them in an orphanage when little Nikki accidentally set the curtains on fire, and Brie had tried to freeze the flames to help. Property damage didn't endear them to their parents, nor did it endear them to the orphanage. Someone from the facility had taken them in, and they've been there ever since.

"Some guy saved your life, John?" Nikki glances up from her book, squinting at the little group of four on the other side of the common room, her voice heavy with amusement. If any member of their team was likely to rival John for the spot of leader, it's Nikki. She'd be damn good at leading, at least to John's estimation, but she seems to enjoy being a little lower on the pecking order.

"Yeah... The guy with the dark hair." Daniel smiles, and Nikki snorts, returning to reading, her interest short lived.

"I'll be sure to thank him." She mutters, a slight smile on her lips, and John looks away from her. Sometimes he's not sure if she likes him or hates him, she's a confusing, and _dangerous_ woman.

"I think the blond one's a telepath." Brie says softly, and John glances over to see Daniel staring at her, rapt with attention at her quiet words. "I felt something press against my shields." John turns his attention to Brie.

"How'd you know it's the blond and not the other one?" John mutters, and Nikki snorts at him, a smirk on her pretty face.

"No telepath is gonna be saving your ass, Cena." She laughs, and John scowls over at her. She enjoys winding him up far too much, and she's far too good at it. "I wonder what they're doing here..." She seems more interested now, sitting up, watching the little scene playing out on the other side of the room. Piper is talking quickly and quietly, clearly explaining what the facility is, and what the rooms are, whilst the two new arrivals look _bored_. There's a part of John that wants to shake them, and demand that the show Piper the respect he deserves. The old man has been good to John, good to the entirety of the students in the training centre, and he deserves to be respected for his good deeds. Something the blond says amuses Piper, his laugh loud over the dull silence of the common room, and John relents a little. If they can make Piper laugh, these two can't be all that bad.

"Piper seems happy to have another telepath around." Brie's voice is always so soft, like snowflakes on a winter morning, and just like those snowflakes, it fills John with a slight chill. He likes her well enough, but she's too cold, too not Nikki for him to really _like_. They might be twins, but Nikki is far more beautiful in John's mind.

"It's nice having people with the same power as you around." Daniel offers, and Brie laughs, a tinkling, brittle sound like icicles snapping.

"Hmm... I felt him poking at my shields too." Nikki leans forward in her chair, her eyes narrowed, a dark little smile on her lips. "Blondie's strong... _Dangerous_. My money is on Piper trying to get him to fix Heyman... Lord knows, Piper wants that creep better for some reason." Her laugh is heavy with blazing amusement, and John has to close his eyes to save himself from being scorched by the flame in her tone. Her fire overwhelms him, and it scares him a little. He's very used to being in control, he has to be, it's far too easy for his strength to get away from him. It's not uncommon for John to over-estimate how strong a door is, and pull it clean off its hinges. Nikki makes him worry, makes him wonder if he'd stomp her fires out, or if she'd reduce him to ashes. There's as much of him that longs to finds out, as there is that dreads it. Piper and Hacksaw suddenly leave, and the two new comers stand watching them go, before coming over to John and his team.

"Hello again, Daniel." The blond smiles, and John frowns. He's not used to feeling on the back foot, but he always feels that way with Piper, so the Twins were probably right about the blond is a telepath, because John feels on the back foot.

"Hi... I think I remember you two from the Warehouse." Daniel smiles awkwardly, his hand outstretched to the blond, who seems to be ignoring it in favour of looking between John and the Twins.

"Yeah, we meet you and John there." The one who saved John's life smiles, and shakes Daniel's hand. "I'm Colt, this is Punk." The blond takes Daniel's hand, and smirks at John, there's more than a hint of amusement in his eyes, and John gets the feeling he's being laughed at.

"You're the leader of this little team then, John?" The blond, Punk, extends his hand to John, and he takes it, shaking it firmly, trying to impress his authority and command in that one handshake. Punk seems utterly unaffected, and even more amused by him for the strength of his handshake.

"Well, I see you're making friends already." Piper appears, and Punk turns to him, a smile on his face. Its galling being summarily dismissed by Punk, John's not used to being dismissed, and he's used to Piper paying him attention over everyone else. There's something in John that's mildly offended at being ignored by him, but it really seems like Piper's concern is on the two new comers. "John, I want you to make use of these two... They're not field tested, but your little team is the best we've got. They'll be useful, I assure you." Piper smiles, and ruffles Punk's hair, getting a mildly annoyed glare for it. "Punk, Colt, this is your group for the next few weeks." There's a pause, and a faraway look in Piper's eyes. He looks rattled, and Punk looks amused more than anything. Witnessing telepathic conversations always unnerves John slightly, it's odd to see how vacant other people look when they're focussed on the voice in their head, but Punk doesn't seem like it really affects him. "I know." Piper snaps eventually, and Colt laughs this time. John can't help but wonder if it was Colt, and not Punk, that Piper was talking to in that exchange.

"We'll be good, don't worry, Pipes." Colt pats Piper's shoulder, and John's beginning to think that the scowl on his face is going to be permanent by the time he gets rid of these two. It's _clear_ that they're a unit, a team, and it's clear that they're not going to make John's life easy. He's used to being in charge, _fully_ in charge, even if Nikki likes to test his boundaries, when it's down the line she does as she's asked, these two are used to being in control of their own fates clearly, getting them to be subordinate might be difficult.

"I hope so... It's only for a few weeks. I need to get some things cleared with HQ, then I'll take them off your hands, John." Piper turns to John trying to look reassuring, but it falls painfully flat. John isn't reassured in the least. This is going to be a complete mess; he can feel it in his gut. _'I appreciate this, John... They're valuable assets, and I'm trusting you to put on a good show for me.'_ Piper's mental voice is always a shock, and John's never sure how to really _reply_ to it. It always takes him a few moments to be able to cobble his wits together enough to manage it.

_'Its okay, Piper. We'll do what we do best. What's the target?'_ It'll be something important, or something really easy, and John isn't sure which. It all depends on what impression Piper wants to make in the duo standing beside him.

_'Ah... The target's details are in the file.'_ Piper hands him a file, and John starts leafing through it.

_'This seems rather simple, Piper. Are you sure this is going to take six people?'_ John glances up at the sound of Punk's voice trickling through his mind. His mental voice is a little softer, a little kinder, but just as filled with amusement. Piper turns to him sharply, and John is cut out of whatever the exchange between them is. _'Well, John-boy, I think we'll be more than happy to help, right Colt?'_

_'Oh, for sure.'_ Colt's smile is incredibly genial, he seems incredibly genial in general, a nice guy to the counter his clearly more abrasive partner. "I'm sure this'll loads of fun, right?" He laughs, and Nikki smiles at him.

"Lots, and lots of fun. I'm Nikki, and this is my lovely sister, Brie. Welcome to the team, boys." She stands and gives first Colt, then Punk a hug, turning to grin at John. "So, _fearless_ leader, when are we off?" Nikki looks just as amused as Punk, and John _dreads_ an allegiance between those two, he can tell his authority would be more than questioned if Nikki decided she liked Punk better than John.

"You leave tomorrow." Piper interrupts; he looks horribly tense, and rests a hand on Punk's shoulder, squeezing it once. "I need to properly debrief these two on regulations. They'll meet you in the morning, six sharp." Piper stalks off, and Colt and Punk follow more sedately behind him.

"They're cute together." Brie says suddenly, and Daniel laughs. "What? It's sweet... I'd like it if someone held my hand." John watches her waggle her glove-covered hand. Unless she focuses on it, her skin can be deathly cold, so she has to wear insulated gloves to stop her from accidentally freezing things. Thankfully, Nikki doesn't suffer from that problem, but sneezing can cause her to start fires. Daniel gently touches Brie's gloved fingers, a slight smile on his face, and John buries his nose in the file. It's much better than watching Daniel and Brie dance around each other.

The file gives details about a little group of talents somewhere near the coast, a rag-tag group consisting of an empath, a strongman like John, and a speedster. By the notes in the file, they're good kids, brought together by bad circumstances. He's pretty sure they'll be easy enough to persuade to come up to the facility. Piper and company will be able to make their little lives so much easier, and that's all John really wants. He loves his job because he _knows_ the kids that he delivers to Piper get better lives. He's seen kids go through training and go on to successful careers in the organisation. He's seen entire other teams formed from kids he's picked up over his time in this facility. It's a good place, and they do good things here. He just hopes that the new comers can see that.

"John." Piper smiles at him, and John takes a seat on the other chair in Piper's office. It'd be well after dinner when Piper had asked him to come and see him, and John had complied without thought. When Piper calls, you go. Its how the facility works.

"Piper, sir?" John sets the file down on the desk, and laces his fingers, trying to feel as relaxed as he usually does in Piper's company, but the new comers, Colt and Punk, have him on edge. He's not happy about playing babysitter to them, not happy that his team's spotless record could be tarnished by their interference. John's team is the best the facility has to offer, and the new comers might ruin their flawless standing.

"I know you're worried about them, but Punk and Colt... They're talented." Piper smiles kindly, and John ducks his head. He's never gotten used to telepathy, never gotten used to having his thoughts spoken back to him. "Really... They don't need to be put with a team, but..." Piper sighs, and rubs at his temples. He looks stressed and tired, and John feels impossibly worried about him. "_Think_, John. What do you remember about them?"

"Sir?" John stares at Piper, seeing frustration building in him. He can feel the strange sensation of Piper _poking_ at his brain, and John moves to clench the arms of the chair he's sitting in, trying to distract himself from the feeling of Piper's mental prying. "I told you all I could remember two years ago... They were _different_, but that's about it."

"_Different_." Piper sighs dramatically, and from nowhere Hacksaw materialises at Piper's side, running his fingers through Piper's hair. It's annoying more than anything when Piper pulls that invisible trick. There's a part of John that _hates_ telepathy, it seems unfairly powerful, for all of John's unnatural strength, he could be so very easily undone by a telepath. Piper and Hacksaw are talking, a silent telepathic conversation that John resents. He was brought to the office for a reason, not to be ignored whilst Piper _stresses_ over the new comers.

"Sir... Why did you want to see me?" John tries to drag Piper back to the point of his presence, and Piper looks up, smiling at him.

"Ah! Of course, I'm sorry John... Punk is... Well, he's _different_." Piper smiles, and John hides a scowl. There's fondness on Piper's face, a smile on his lips, a light in his eyes that John's never seen before. It's the expression of a proud father, and John's _jealous_, stupidly, pointlessly jealous, but he's always wanted Piper to be proud of him. Punk has Piper's pride without ever doing anything to earn it, and that's just not fair.

"They're both _different_." Hacksaw mutters, kissing Piper's head. "Colt's a good guy. Reliable, unlike his flake of a telepath." Hacksaw laughs, and Piper glares up at him. "Trust him, John. If Colt tells you it's a bad idea, _listen _to him." Hacksaw smiles at John, and John nods. Hacksaw doesn't give out words like that, he's pretty harsh in his estimation of people, but he's _clearly_ got a soft spot for Colt, just as clearly as Piper has one for Punk. There's more to this story than meets the eye, and John _needs_ to know what the deal with these four is, because he feels like a pawn in a game of chess, and he's not sure who's pawn he is. He hates being out of the loop, but he supposes with telepaths you're always out of the loop. It's the only thing he truly dislikes about Piper, he's never fully open, never fully honest, simply because he never thinks to be, he _knows_ all your secrets, and so doesn't think to share his.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" John's getting sick of this verbal dancing. It's getting late, and he wants to sleep, he needs to be fresh for tomorrow. He's going to have to be on top of his game for dealing with the new comers.

"I wanted... Do you have any questions, John?" Piper smiles kindly, his fingers steepled, his chin resting on his thumbs. It's a big question. It's a surprisingly open-ended question, and John isn't sure what Piper's expecting from him. There's a lot he wants to ask, but he's no idea what would be answered.

"They were at the Warehouse, weren't they?" John asks something he knows the answer to, he remembers Colt and Punk, Colt mostly, it's hard to forget the person who saved his life after all. Piper nods in response to the question, and John frowns, considering his options. "You know them... You've got some kind of connection to them?" At this Piper laughs, and Hacksaw looks away.

"Yeah... A _connection_ is a decent way to put it. I trained Punk... A little at least, before the Warehouse incident. He was different back then... Not as _confident_." John notes that Piper doesn't say powerful. It's confident, and that puts John at ease somewhat. The last thing he wants, or needs, is another telepath as powerful as Piper in his life. He's only met three telepaths in his life, Piper, Punk, and Heyman. Piper has been good to him, Punk is a complete unknown, and Heyman, well, he actually feels sorry for Heyman. He'd seen him once in the infirmary, a drooling, gibbering wreck. Piper had said that a telepath did it to him, and John had been grateful he'd never met the person who could destroy Heyman like that. Piper had always stressed how powerful Heyman was, and used him as a cautionary tale. No matter how powerful you are, if you're alone, you're weak. Teamwork is something Piper is careful to stress.

"Did he..." John can't bring himself to finish that sentence, because there's a creeping suspicion that Heyman might have been destroyed by the telepath Piper wants John to spend a few weeks with, and John is _certain_ he doesn't want something that dangerous near Nikki. Not just _Nikki_, the entire team, but if he's honest mostly Nikki. It'd break something in John to let her get hurt. If Punk destroyed Heyman, any member of the team would be nothing to him. Hacksaw stares at John hard, and John glances away. He's not sure what that stare had meant, but he feels _warned_. Piper just smiles, a normal, mildly distracted smile.

"Punk's plenty strong, but he's on your side. They're both on your side. I explained protocol to them. They know you're in charge, John." Piper smiles, and opens the drawer of his desk. "Here, these are the keys to the minibus for you to take. There'll be a contact in the hotel waiting for you."

"Who?" This is familiar. This is good. This is planning a mission. It's just the strange thoughts about Heyman that make John feel horribly uncomfortable. John has carefully avoided thinking about Heyman for a long time, and he's not happy with the man worming his way into John's thoughts once more. Even less happy that the thoughts are focussed on who destroyed Heyman's brain.

"He's called Jimmy... He's-"

"Energetic." Hacksaw interrupts Piper with a laugh, getting a smack to the stomach from him.

"Energetic is accurate, I guess." Piper sends John an image of an older man with impressive hair, big sunglasses, and a bigger mouth. "Go get some sleep, John. Six sharp, I told Punk and Colt to meet you at the van." John nods, and leaves the office, pausing outside the door at the sound of Punk's laughter, and Piper's exclamation of shock from the other side of the door.

_'We'll be good little subordinates, John-boy, don't worry.'_ Punk's mental voice is laced with amusement. Punk had been there the whole time, and Piper hadn't known. A feeling of almost dread creeps over John. Punk's not just confident, he's _powerful_, powerful enough to play Piper, powerful enough to destroy Heyman, powerful enough to hurt John's team.

The morning is cold, the entire team, apart from Brie, bundled up against the freezing temperatures. Brie looks quite comfortable with the cold, a smile on her lips, and a little ice sculpture forming on the ground beside her. John smiles awkwardly at his assembled troops, waiting for the arrival of their new teammates, whilst stomping his feet trying to get some feeling back into them.

"Where the hell are they?" Daniel mutters, rubbing his hands together vigorously. He looks miserable in the cold, his scarf wound tight around his face.

"I guess they slept in?" Brie mutters, and produces a pair of gloves from her pocket, offering them to Daniel. He takes them from her gratefully, their fingers brushing slightly, and John staunchly looks away. He's _not_ jealous of their relationship, though the mirth in Nikki's eyes tells him that's exactly how it appears.

"You want me to keep you nice and cosy, Johnny?" She laughs softly, creeping closer, heat radiating from her body. John keeps his feet rooted, not moving closer, but not moving further away. She bewilders him, and it's infuriating, tempting, and horribly dangerous.

"Are you planning on standing out there in the cold for much longer?" There's a calm lazy voice from inside the van behind them, and John turns to glare at the source of it. Punk's sitting in the front of the little minibus, his feet on the dash, a grin on his lips. Colt's shaking his head, and sipping at a steaming cup of coffee, while he sits behind the wheel, a mildly amused expression on his face. He's clearly used to his partner's antics, and is no longer surprised by them.

"Punk doesn't trust anyone but us to drive, so feel free to fall back asleep in the back." Colt mutters, handing the cup to Punk. Punk takes a sip, and then holds up a bag of doughnuts, shaking it slightly.

"C'mon, I've breakfast for all. Let's go people, daylight's a wasting." Punk laughs again, and Colt shakes his head once more, starting the engine. Daniel meets John's eye, the look on his face is tight and tense. The bus had been empty when they'd come down to it, at least it'd _seemed_ empty. These two aren't above playing games with them, as well as Piper, it seems. It all makes John want to distrust them even more, and there's no real way for them to be sure that they can trust either one of these two new additions to the team. The only person they can really trust is Piper, and he's vouching for Colt and Punk, so for now John's team have no option but to trust the new comers, hoping that Piper isn't being tricked once more.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you to the lovely ladies and gentlemen who reviewed!<em>

**_AshJovillette, littleone 1389, Brokenspell77, Shiki94, and InYourHonour._**

_Things are slowly picking up with this one... And in case any of you are wondering, yes The Mouth of the South will be making a cameo appearance in the next chapter. ^-^_

_If I thought I was concerned about the first part of this story, you have no idea just how freaked out by this one I am...___ Trepidation haunts me with this fic... as such: _**__**_Please leave a review, even if it's just "Hey, that didn't suck", I'd be so far and beyond grateful. Heck even if you thought it did suck, tell me too, something is better than nothing after all. :D_**__**_


	4. Loyalty Mission

_Warnings: Slash (Colt/Punk) (Hacksaw Jim Duggan/Rowdy Roddy Piper), Minor Het (John Cena/Nikki Bella) (Daniel Bryan/Brie Bella), __Profanity, Smut, Profanity, AU setting, _Sequel to **Rhizomorph.**

* * *

><p>Everything had gone surprisingly according to the plan they'd made. The plan had required them showing up in Piper's office, and being all badass and cool, and that had gone without a hitch. Punk was rather smug about how much the old man was taken aback by them, but the old telepath had been a slight hitch in the plan. Piper had looked <em>so<em> relieved, he'd felt so relieved. He'd really thought they'd been dead all that time, and at seeing them again tears had shimmered in his eyes. It was sweet, and if he'd had any thoughts other than his relief, they were locked behind the shields that Punk's still too polite to just break down. He'd been considering it though. The longer they'd sat there observing, the more Punk had wanted to just fuck manners and take what he wanted to know from Piper. Yet, sitting opposite Piper, talking to him again had reminded Punk of being younger, more naive, more trusting, and he couldn't just _take_ from Piper. It wasn't just manners that held Punk back, it was _Piper_. Punk cared for the old scruffy bastard more than he'd wanted to admit, but the slight feeling of _I told you so_ coming from the link with Colt made it clear that Colt had known that Punk's original plan would be changing to their plan B of further observation, further time with Piper. He'd wanted to avoid spending too much time with the old telepath, because Punk had known that it would be easy to lose sight of the plan if he was focussed on absorbing as much from Piper as he could. Yet the wry tilt to Colt's lips had Punk holding back the urge to smack him for being so damned smug, and so damned good at knowing what Punk's going to do. He couldn't resist the urge to spend a little too long with Piper, and Colt had said that's what would happen.

After spending a long time _talking_ in Piper's office, he'd led them out to his facility, and Punk had been neither impressed, nor unimpressed. It was clean, airy, the classes small and focussed. It looked okay, well run, and nothing more than okay. They'd ended up in the common room, and Piper had tagged a little cluster of four as the group he was going to assign to watching Colt and Punk until he'd spoken to HQ.

_'That's the other telekinetic from the Warehouse... The one that wasn't Amy.'_ Colt spots them quickly, and Punk glances over at the group. There's not much in the way of shielding on any of them, the girls have mental shields mostly constructed of their elemental powers, the telekinetic has something rudimentary and probably put in place by Piper, the other one, some kind of _strong man_, has the same sort of shield, but a little stronger. It's almost laughable how badly they're protected, and these are supposed to be Piper's prized pupils, but telepaths are _rare_ so good shielding more than likely isn't a priority for anyone other than telepaths themselves, and in this facility, there are three. Two are well shielded, and the third is a mess of Punk's own doing. Heyman's here, in a little medical ward somewhere, the mess of his mind horribly interesting to Punk.

"Gentlemen, I've gotta run. Be nice, talk to the teams here. Find one you like the look of, you'll need to join one till I've got something worked out for you both." Piper sounds distracted, and Punk smirks at him, trying to maintain the cool aloof persona he's been carefully crafting the whole time.

"Piper, you really need to fix the decor in here... I'm not sure anyone but you appreciates tartan this much." Punk's smirk fades to a smile, and Piper laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'll be back in a bit." He and Hack leave, and Punk glances over at Colt. Over the link, there's more of the damned wry amusement Colt's been feeling the whole time. Once more the urge to smack his other half is strong, though not as strong as the desire to snuggle up to him, but that's _always_ Punk's first instinct when it comes to Colt.

_'Those four are our babysitters for a while. Wanna go say hi?'_ Punk starts walking over, and Colt follows along behind him slightly, catching Punk's hand in his, his thumb moving over Punk's knuckles.

_'You sure about this, Punkers?'_ Colt sounds mildly concerned, and Punk's more than a little relieved for that. If Colt was more concerned, Punk would be more concerned, and there'd be entirely too much concern all round. There's not been much in the way of doubt from Colt, and if there's one thing Punk has learned since being in a relationship with Colt, it's to trust Colt's gut. His instincts are good, far better than Punk's own at any rate, so Punk's been as relaxed as he can be around people who aren't Colt.

_'I'm sure.'_ Punk turns to him with a smile, and over their link is familiar warmth, the soft heat of Colt's love for him. He's had over two years to bask in this warmth, but Punk's certain he'll never grow tired of it. Colt loves him as selflessly, and as deeply as Punk loves Colt in return. Back in his office, Piper had been musing over the depth of the connection between Colt and Punk, and it had amused Punk more than it should of, hearing Piper's thoughts had made something like a blush creep over his cheeks. At the time Punk had been glad Colt had sent the blood back where it belonged so he looked like cool, calm, collected Punk he'd been aiming for, rather than the slightly flustered, more than a little swoony Punk he was. It's something that they've both been working on, their _personas_. They can't be themselves, not here, not now. They have to be Punk, the all-knowing telepath, and Colt, the all-powerful biopath. They can't be Punk and Colt, the in-love dorks who spent the best part of their time in Piper's office, smooching and cuddling. They'd been playing something of a game with each other, testing just how far they can push before they have to call it quits because Punk's concentration will slip. They'd come close several times, but thankfully they'd never pushed too far, at least not yet, Punk doesn't doubt that they will one day.

The group are okay, they _know_ nothing though, but Punk's come to expect that from these _groups_. He and Colt have bumped into groups like this one on rare occasions over the past two years, and they've always just been acting orders that sound like the bare minimum to Punk. It might be that, as a telepath, he's naturally more inclined to distrust people, but Colt had never seemed to think much of those random groups either. This group of four seem okay though, four different but decently balanced talents. The telekinetic is a nice guy, a little scattered but in general harmless, the _leader_ is self-absorbed and protective over _everyone_ he considers his, and the girls are interesting. Elementals aren't out and about too often, at that's what Punk has been able to gather based on the groups they've bumped into. They're usually sent off to _other_ projects, and these two are pure Elementals, fire and ice, twins with equal and opposite powers. They seem like nice, personable girls, so Punk thinks that more than likely counts someway to them being on the field.

It doesn't take Piper too long to fetch them back, and he farms them out into an introductory class for the majority of the rest of the day. Colt sits there paying attention, making notes, as Punk darts through the minds of the facility, trying to gleam information from the everyone there, but mostly he's picking through the talents in the class with them. The youngest is six, the eldest eighteen, all economic backgrounds are represented, all races, all religions, all creeds, every person in that room is different. Some of their talents are the same, but there's not one telepath in the mix. It's stopped surprising Punk though, in all of the talents he and Colt have come across, there's never been another telepath. Telepathy really does seem to be a rare gift, and that Punk's been left to his own devices for so long is more and more surprising to him.

That night they're shown to a dorm room near the entrance. A simple bed in it, and little else. There's an en suite bathroom, and by the thoughts of the rest of the students in the facility, this is a rarity. Piper's looking after them, and Punk's grateful for that. He's not sure he much likes the idea of communal showers. He'd hated it in high school, and now that he's older, he's sure he'll still hate it.

_'You want me to put a block up for you?'_ Colt sounds distracted, his attention on a map, planning the route they'll take to place where they'll be meeting the contact for the mission, a man named Jimmy Hart. Punk's never grown to like driving, it remains a skill he has, and if he can get out of it, he will. This'll be a long drive, but there's no way Punk's putting Colt's life in someone else's hands, so he'll do his fair share of the driving.

_'What do you think?'_ Punk curls around Colt's back, his chin digging into Colt's shoulder. It's an honest question. Punk's instincts are screaming that a block is a _bad_ idea, that this place isn't safe in the least, and he should be ready to defend himself and Colt at a moment's notice, but if Colt thinks it's safe, then Punk will take the opportunity to sleep. This bed might be too hard, and too narrow, but sleeping is something Punk enjoys when he can. Colt sets the map on the bedside table, and sighs.

_'I don't know... It's Piper and Hack, and they... But it's this, and...'_ He turns in Punk's arms, and pulls him closer, tangling his legs with Punk's own. "I don't know... You look tired." Colt's thumb strokes over Punk's eyebrow. "A couple of hours." He kisses Punk's forehead, and Punk can feel the block on his gift descend slowly, blocking out the World beyond his link to Colt.

_'Love you.'_ Punk mumbles, and as he drifts off to sleep, the returned _I love you too_ fills his mind.

_'We're buying a proper road trip breakfast.'_ Punk wakes Colt up slowly; they'd traded sleeping and being awake a few hours ago. Punk had spent his time awake in the odd half-sleep of his youth, and Colt had been dead to the World, his dreams tinted with soft summer sun, and Punk. It'd been half-dream, half-memory, and Punk had been more than tempted to sink into that dream, but he'd distracted himself with prying in sleeping minds, and finding out that breakfast in this facility wasn't exactly up to Punk's desires. He wants something more appetising than the oatmeal that was to be dished up to everyone that morning.

"Breakfast? Punkers, its fucking dark out." Colt rolls out of bed, rubbing his eyes, and Punk grins at him.

"I know, Colt... _But_, I wanna take a shower first." Punk snorts, and shakes his head at the hopeful look that crosses Colt's face. _'Alone... Well, together will be quicker, but seriously, we can't... I don't wanna-'_

_'Feedback... I get it. We need some place safe soon... I'm fucking miss you.'_ Colt kisses him, long and slow, and deep. The sort kiss that makes Punk think it really might be okay to throw up a block and have sex. They've been very restrained since they've been here, and they've been there a lot longer than anyone but them knows. They're both on edge, both antsy to get what they came for and be done with this place, but plans take time, especially when you're sticking to them.

"You miss fucking me." Punk breaks the kiss with a laugh, and Colt grins at him, his hands working under the waistband of Punk's boxers to squeeze his ass.

"It's a _glorious_ thing to miss." Colt nips at the side of Punk's throat, worrying a small mark there. It's completely pointless, if Colt wanted to he could send blood there to form bruises, but _putting _that little hickey there means something to Colt, and Punk can feel exactly what that is over their link.

_'I might be yours, Colt... But you're mine too.'_ Punk smirks at the little spark of fire in Colt's eyes, and then remembers where they are, what they're doing, and groans in frustration. "C'mon, c'mon... Bathing, eating, driving... That's all that's on the to-do-list for today. Fucking Punk is later in the week though... Punk is very sick of not being fucked."

"And he's talking in third person... Never a good sign. Shower, then we'll feed Punk. Heaven forbid he should be in third person." Colt laughs, and starts shuffling to the bathroom, his hands still groping Punk's ass, forcing Punk to awkwardly scuttle backwards.

"Where the hell are they?" The telekinetic, Daniel, mutters, and Punk smirks slightly watching their new teammates looking cold and annoyed. Colt takes a sip of the cup of coffee he's holding, and another bite of his breakfast doughnut.

_'You nearly done? I think they're getting annoyed.'_ Punk glances over at Colt, watching him chew, irritation trickling over the link. _'You still pissed I gave you half a handy?'_ Punk laughs, and Colt glares at him.

_'I'm not talking to you.'_ Colt glares at him, and Punk rest his feet on the dash, smirking at their teammates. They all look miserable apart from the ice wielding twin, Brie, she's making pretty little ice sculptures, looking distractedly happy.

"I guess they slept in?" Brie sounds incredibly sweet, and her mind is depressingly straightforward. There's nothing of interest behind her frigid shields, just a lot of pining for Daniel, who's doing a lot of pining back. It's all very _sweet_, and Punk intends to get them past _sweet_ as quickly as possible.

_'When we get to the hotel, I'll blow you... Better yet, you send them to sleep for the whole trip, and we can get a cheap motel room, and fuck.'_ Punk reaches out, turns Colt's face to him, and smiles as coyly as he can. _'You could have finished yourself off.'_ Colt snorts, shaking his head.

_'Yeah... No. Even with just our link, what I feel, you feel, and then everyone would feel it... They're gonna have such stiff necks sleeping in the back of this thing.'_ Colt finishes his doughnut, and Punk grins. _'Random motel sex is always fun... You think we can find a place that charges by the hour, and gives you free lube in the room again?'_

_'Oh god... Free lube motel was the best.'_ Punk laughs, and Colt leans over to kiss him. _'C'mon, sooner we get on the road, the sooner we can put the kids to bed, and find a free lube motel.'_

_'I'm just hoping it has more velvet bedspreads... Those were very classy.'_ Colt laughs, sending Punk a mental image of Punk's naked body spread across the ugly mustard coloured velvet of that bedspread. It'd been a truly grotty motel, but the bed had been clean, and far more comfortable that you'd expect. If they ever paid for them, that little room would have been worth the money.

"Are you planning on standing out there in the cold for much longer?" Punk smirks at the varying looks on the faces of his teammates, mistrust to amusement to relief. Their thoughts shift just as quickly, and Punk smirks at them, watching them fidget, and look to Cena.

_'When did you get there? You pair have been sitting there, laughing at us the whole time.'_ Cena's thoughts are tinged with more than a little annoyance, and steeped in mistrust. Pranks might have been fun, might have allowed them to observe this little team, but from now on they're going to have to be more honest with their little teammates if this trip is to go smoothly.

"Punk doesn't trust anyone but us to drive, so feel free to fall back asleep in the back." Colt mutters, handing his half-full cup of coffee to Punk. Punk takes a sip, and holds up a bag of doughnuts, shaking it slightly. Road trip breakfast is takeaway coffee and doughnuts, it's what he and Colt always have, and it's what their new team is getting too. _'They seem jumpy, don't they?'_ Colt's wearing a genial smile, but over the link, Punk can feel the concern for this little adventure. _'They're making me feel twitchy just looking at them... They're eating then they're sleeping... I'm not putting up with you having to deal with whatever bullshit they're thinking right now.'_

_'It's not so bad... They're not the most interesting group of people we've encountered... I will not object to them going beddybyes quickly.'_ Punk smiles at Colt, and then at the other four still standing outside the car. "C'mon, I have breakfast for all. Let's go people, daylight is a wasting." Punk laughs, and hands Cena the bag of doughnuts as he clambers in.

"You two have been here for a while?" He asks as he takes a seat, and Punk shakes his head. The truth wouldn't go down too well with Cena, Punk can tell.

"Not really, we headed out to get breakfast, then straight to the car. We've been here maybe a minute." Colt lies smoothly, and Cena trusts him almost implicitly. Clearly saving his life is something Cena's at least grateful for.

"Here, we got you coffee too... Well, tea for the lovely Miss Brie, and her beau." Punk hands the cup holder back, and this time Daniel takes it, an awkward look on his face.

"We're not... I mean... You know." He fumbles for words, and Brie looks almost offended by them.

_'You never will be if you keep on like that.'_ Punk smiles at Daniel, but his tone is harsh, and the telekinetic looks suitably contrite as he hands Brie her cup of tea.

"You got me iced!" She laughs, and Colt glances at Punk out of the corner of his eye, the link flooded with a mixture of amusement and horror. This might be an incredibly difficult trip if their new teammates are going to be this easily impressed. Colt starts driving, and Punk smiles hopefully at him, getting the mental equivalent of an eye roll back.

"So..." Nikki, the pyromancer, moves forward, closer to Punk, her tone laced with something light and frothy. "How did you two meet?"

"Football game." Punk smiles at her, and she grins back at him, producing a nail file from her purse. Cena is wearing an almost glare, his thoughts focussed on keeping Nikki from getting too attached to the _newcomers_. It's pretty clear that Cena thinks Piper has him well protected, he might not be projecting, but the shields he has aren't strong, not by Punk's standards, and his thoughts are loud and messy.

"A football game? Kind of disappointing... I'd have figured there'd be some great story, all love at first sight." She sighs, swooning dramatically, and Punk laughs, shaking his head.

"Nope, all very ordinary... A high school football game. I caught Colt chea-"

"You started the cheating, Punkers." Colt chimes in, and Nikki laughs at them, her eyes lit up with amusement. "He's a no good, dirty cheat when it comes to competitive sports." Colt assures her, and Nikki nods sagely, slipping her file back in her purse.

"I'm sure he's a killer poker player." She grins, and Colt snorts. "We should go to Vegas once we've accomplished this mission. We'd come back millionaires."

"Billionaires." Brie adds from the back of the bus, and Daniel laughs along with her.

_'Lighten up, Cena.'_ Punk keeps his mental voice gentle, and Cena jolts when the message comes to him.

_'How? Piper built me shields.'_ Cena sounds utterly horrified, and Punk turns to him with a smile.

_'We're on the same team, Cena... For now at least. So how about you lighten up, and have some fun with your teammates. What do you usually do on these drives?'_ It turns out that they usually play ridiculous car games, and whilst Punk's willing to indulge them, Colt is clearly not in the mood. His lead foot is heavier than usual, and every so often, he sends Punk random images from various times they've had sex. He's sending a very unsubtle message, and Punk can't really say he blames him. It's been weeks since they've fucked, and clearly the half-started handjob Punk gave Colt this morning is something that's going to need to be finished.

_'I'm fucking sick of I Spy.'_ Colt snaps, and suddenly their teammates all fall asleep. "Jesus... They seem like nice enough people, but three thousand rounds of I Spy? Fuck that!"

"I think it was more like thirty, but I get your point. There's a motel... Five miles down the road. We'll some of that tension outta you, then I'll drive for a bit." Punk smiles, and over the link there's a burst of gratitude, that Punk counters with _finally_ allowing his own desire for Colt inside of him to fully bleed over the link.

When they arrive, they grab a key from the main office, Punk easily convincing the man in the reception that they'd paid, and before the door's even closed, Colt is on Punk. The kiss Colt's giving him is frantic and needy, _desperate_ really. His hands pull at Punk's clothes, his lips and teeth attach to each new sliver skin that's revealed, and Punk manages to gather the presence of mind to shove Colt away.

"Block?" Punk smirks, as a little sheepish expression flits over Colt's face.

"Sorry, sorry... It's been _way_ too long. I know this isn't in the plan, but seriously, we're still young, and you expect me to be able to share a bed with you every night, and not wanna do more than cuddle you?" Colt's straight back to kissing Punk's neck once the block is in place, and Punk easily set up a feedback loop, feeling Colt shiver slightly as the ghost of his own frantic kisses makes itself known on his own skin. "You have _no_ idea how hard it is to just hold you, Punkers..." Colt's kisses are still frantic, like he's afraid something will try to break them apart if he isn't constantly latched onto Punk somehow.

"It's okay... I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." Punk scratches at Colt's scalp, and the pace slows a little, those kisses are still heavy, and fast, but the slight edge to them eases up. "You think not jumping you is easy for me... It's a little something called self-restraint." Punk laughs, and Colt starts pulling his own clothes off. Once Colt's naked, Punk all but tackles him to the bed, and starts nipping at his throat, not stopping until there's a delicate little mark there.

_'Self-restraint? You siphon off little bits to passersby. Don't think I don't know you do, you scruffy little punk.'_ Colt laughs, and pulls Punk down for a kiss, something far slower and far more sensual than every other they've shared so far. _'Lube?'_

_'In the drawer.'_ Punk moves to lay on his back, and Colt starts coating his fingers, resting between Punk's spread thighs. It's hard to believe not so long ago the idea of sex being something Punk _truly_ craved on a regular basis was utterly foreign to him, but now, a few weeks, and Punk's more than aware that a quickie in a motel room isn't going to be enough for him. The physical side to his relationship with Colt is the one side Punk had never thought would be all that important, but it is. It's not just about feeling good, and it does feel good, it's about something more tangible, something more concrete than the feelings that ebb between them over their link. During sex they're meshed so deeply, entwined so fully, that Punk's almost not sure where he ends and Colt begins. "Ah... _Colt_." Colt's fingers inside of him is something Punk never really remembers how much he adores until he has them back inside stretching him open, playing him as if he were an instrument designed solely to sing in pleasure. Feeling the ghost of himself on his own fingers has never stopped being strange, but it's not bad. The loop itself isn't bad, and he knows that it's something Colt enjoys as much as he does. Sex between them is far deeper than it is for most people, they're far more entwined simply because they have to be. Without the loop, Colt's talent would get away from him, and would, at the very least, hurt Punk. Yet the loop is a blessing rather than the necessary burden of having sex with a biopath. It eliminated all the guesswork in working out what feels good and what doesn't. They _know_ if something feels good to the other, they know when to go fast, and when to go slow. This is one of those times when it _has_ to be fast. They don't have time for slow and leisurely exploration, this is a quick fuck to take the edge off, a quick fuck to enjoy a taste before they're somewhere safe enough to feast.

_'C'mon... I'm ready, you know I'm ready.'_ Punk glares up at Colt, and he moves, pulls his fingers free, and takes the lube Punk was already moving to hand him. He coats his cock and enters Punk in one long slow stroke, burying his dick as deeply as he can in Punk's body.

_'Fuck... You feel good, Punkers.'_ The low rumble in the back of Colt's throat_ always_ makes Punk's cock twitch with anticipation.

_'C'mon, gotta hurry... We don't have time to waste.'_ Punk moans as Colt starts fucking him with long, firm strokes. He takes a hold of his cock, stroking it far faster than Colt's taking him. It makes an odd contrast, the ghost of his own ass around his cock is tight, and moving slowly, whilst his hand is moving quickly. Colt makes an odd choked sound, and pulls out, tugging Punk over him, then using his talent to make Punk's body position itself, and take his cock back in.

_'You gonna need help, or can you do this yourself?'_ Colt grins at him, and Punk snorts, starting to ride Colt's cock. He knows that Colt's using his talent to help somewhat, and Punk can't say he minds. They both have gifts; it'd be foolish to let them go to waste, especially when they can be used in such fun ways. It doesn't take long for them to come, but that's no real surprise, it'd been frantic and quick, because they really don't have time to waste, not that that stops Colt from drawing another orgasm out of them both in the shower, leaving him in a far better mood than he's been in for the last few days.

Punk keeps his word on driving next, and for many long _boring_ hours he does, only trading places with Colt on the home stretch.

When they finally arrive at the hotel, they're greeted by a wall of overly bright neon in the thick darkness. Colt parks, and Punk scrambles out of his door, opening Colt's with a flourish.

_'Let's just find this guy, and get some sleep... I'm exhausted... And you look far too gorgeous. Are we trusting this place? Am I getting round two?'_ Colt is out of the car and wrapped around Punk, kissing him almost frantically before Punk can think of an answer to any of those questions.

_'The motel was supposed to make you less horny, not more...'_ Punk smirks at Colt, throwing up the invisible man trick just before someone comes out of the hotel.

_'That's our guy...'_ Colt doesn't sound impressed, and Punk kisses him once more, watching the man approach the van cautiously.

"Well, now... I guess this must be them, but they're all asleep... And there should be six, not four." The man's accent is thick, and Punk rubs his temples slightly, getting a quick kiss against one from Colt, feeling the headache that had been threatening to form vanish.

"So... Jimmy?" Punk drops the invisible man trick, and approaches the spry old man examining the van with a smile. This Jimmy's shields aren't much of anything, and Punk's picking up more than a few of the man's constantly shifting thoughts. He seems incapable of following a train of thought for more than a few seconds, his mind buzzing like a box of bees.

"You must be Punk." He laughs, and takes Punk's hand, shaking it enthusiastically. "And this is your Colt? How'd you do? Nice to meet you both. I've heard a lot of nothing about you two from Rodney." The man takes Colt's hand and Punk has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the expression on Colt's face.

_'Piper's real name is Rodney? Jesus... No wonder he prefers Piper.'_ Colt's mental voice is riddled with amusement, and Punk smiles brightly at the old man in front of them, hoping to focus his overactive mind on something as menial as telling them where their room is.

"Well, you know how Piper is, always wanting to keep the facts to himself." At Punk's words Jimmy laughs, and _finally_ let's go of Colt's hand.

"Oh my, _yes_, but that's just a trait of all of you telepaths... All the cards are yours to see, and yours alone... Well, you might share a peak with your biopath, of course/" He chuckles, and Punk has the feeling that Piper had sent them here to ensure that Punk got _nothing_ about anything. Jimmy's a very friendly guy, but those flimsy shields up front overlay a much stronger set. Shields that have been reinforced many times over. Punk can pick out the different layers; can see the interweaving strands of protection, all over them _heavy_ with Piper's signature. Mr Hart has information, and there's a part of Punk that's beginning to think Piper had sent them here on this pointless retrieval mission to dangle the temptation of looting Jimmy's mind in front of Punk just to see what he'd do. It's a pretty cruel experiment, and there's a sting of annoyance in Punk's gut over it.

_'You're plotting.'_ Colt sounds amused, and Punk shakes his head. He's not plotting, because he thinks that's what Piper would expect him to do, or maybe Piper expects him to do nothing. It's all something he needs to think about, so maybe he is plotting, but only a little.

_'No... Not yet, not really... Thinking, considering... Maybe plotting, but just a little. I'll tell you my plots later'_ Punk squeezes Colt's hand, and smiles over at him.

_'I'm holding you to that... Your plots are my plots after all.'_ There's something distracted in Colt's voice, something like he's spotted something else in their vicinity, and it's concerning him, but Punk supposes when he shares, Colt will too.

"The others are still in the van, Jimmy. We divide up by pairs. Myself, and Colt. Then one guy, one girl for the other two." Punk's feeling charitable, and maybe rooming with Daniel will stop Brie from focussing on how she wants to relax around him, and just actually do it. Other people's tentative steps into romance annoy Punk. It annoys him for the simple reason he remembers his own, and he knows that if he'd just stopped being afraid he could have had Colt for longer than he already has. Love has made him _greedy_ for more it, retroactively and in the future, Punk doesn't want there to be any time in his life where he wasn't with Colt.

"Roddy sent you down on a couples retreat, huh?" Jimmy laughs, almost frolicking over to the door. This old man has far too much energy. "How sweet. Room two-o-one for you too. I'll get the rest of your team all sorted out. Do you want something to eat? I'm a fine cook. No one does a better baked potato and beans."

"We'll be fine, Mr Hart." Colt assures Jimmy quickly, ushering Punk forward, and Punk lets himself be ushered. He's not going to get anything interesting from Jimmy, not yet anyway, and there's nothing else of interest in this little hotel.

_'You gonna wake them up?'_ Punk starts walking up the stairs. The décor in this little hotel is dated, stuck in the eighties, rather like Jimmy himself, stuck reliving his glory years. Colt's huffs behind him, and Punk turns holding out his hand. "I can take a bag, gimme one."

"Keep going, I'm fine." Colt shifts the grip on one of the bags he's carrying, and Punk shakes his head, he knows better than to argue with Colt when it comes to him being all-macho. Sometimes, most times, Colt likes to look after Punk, likes to do simple little menial tasks for him, and more often than not, Punk's okay with letting himself be looked after in these simple ways. He returns the favour when and where he can. Colt's no cook, as they've discovered, and Punk's slightly better, but not by much, and why cook when any restaurant in town is free. They've eaten in some of the nicest places around, slept in the nicest hotels. Punk gives Colt what he can, simple little things like food and shelter. Provision, protection, and love, those are the cornerstones of their relationship. _'Stop brooding, Punkers.'_ Colt stands beside him outside their hotel room, and kisses the side of Punk's head. "You'll give yourself a headache." Punk doesn't answer, can't see the point in arguing, brooding _always_ gives him a headache, so he should stop it. Colt drops their bags on a chair, and stretches his back, the vertebrate cracking as he does.

"I'm sure backs shouldn't crack." Punk laughs, flopping onto the bed, and kicking his sneakers off. It's not the most comfortable, or biggest bed they've slept on, but it'll do for whilst they're in Jimmy's company. Punk closes his eyes, listening to the irritated complaining thoughts of Cena, annoyed that his sleeping arrangements have already been decided, annoyed that Colt and Punk had already spoken to the contact, annoyed that he'd fallen asleep instead of observing his new teammates. "Super Cena really doesn't trust us." Punk laughs, and Colt glances over at him from where he's standing by the window, looking out.

"We've not really given him any reason to trust us, Punkers." Colt turns back to watching what's going on outside, and Punk lets his mind skim further, picking up the ebb and flow of a different city. Every city _feels_ different, every state has a different air to it, and Punk's never sure if he likes different cities or if he's just more used to Chicago and its familiarity so everywhere else feels wrong.

"The girls like us. Nikki thinks we're pretty badass, and Brie thinks we're cute." Punk laughs as he focuses on the thoughts of his new teammates once more.

"Uh-huh." Colt's really not paying attention, but Punk's found that tends to happen in new cities with Colt. He'll be distracted, checking out the biological makeup of as many people close to them as he can, checking for talents, checking for _threats_. Thorough and careful in contrast to Punk's more gleeful approach of just _looking_ over the thoughts of the city, Colt will move systematically, person to person, checking, cataloguing, comparing to the vast bank of talents in his neatly organised brain.

"Daniel's stressing out over having to room with Brie. He's not thinking about us at all. He's decided that until we fuck up, we're not worth worrying over." Punk tucks his hands behind his head, and stares at Colt's back.

_'There's someone here... Someone Piper didn't mention.'_ Colt starts pacing the small room, and Punk sits up on the bed. He'd not been paying close attention in his mental sweep, and he curses himself for his lazy complacency. He should know better than to just think quick was good enough, thorough is the way they've _always _got to be.

_'Someone?'_ Punk raises an eyebrow, watching Colt walk from wall to wall, over and over again like an expectant father in the waiting room of a hospital.

_'Some talent... It's not one I recognise. Can't you hear them?'_ Colt stops at the foot of the bed, and Punk sighs, reaching out, trying to spot this talent. There's that living, electric shield from Warehouse, and now that he's found it, he wonders how the hell he managed to miss it in the first place.

_'You should recognise this guy, Colt.'_ Punk frowns, and pats the bed beside him, curling around Colt once he settles down beside Punk. '_He was the guy who picked up Heyman.'_

_'The Warehouse guy? The one not in the suit? Hmm... Well, that's more than likely not good.'_ Colt's fingers start running through Punk's hair. It's a soothing little gesture, one that Punk is gloriously familiar with, and provides a gentle calming backdrop to the task of starting to delicately picking at the electric shield. It's difficult working through an elemental mental shield, a process that takes time, and effort, but there's nothing for them to do until Cena decides it's time for a _team meeting_, so Punk focuses on his self appointed task.

_'Stupid old fucker... I was enjoying my life down here. Gotta keep moving, gotta change my number again. Old bastard. Promised me my family would be left outta this bullshit... Fucking promised me!'_ It takes Punk maybe twenty minutes of careful prying, but once he's breached the electric shield, he's surprised by the thoughts of the man. He's focussed on finding his cousin, a child, a very familiar child. One of the three from the Warehouse. _'Fucking asshole... Gotta find the target, gotta get Heyman fixed up, that's the key. I didn't know what his plans were! Fucking asshole! Fucking lying assholes! All of them! I fucking trusted that fucking dick! Can't trust a fucking dick that slept his way to power.'_

_'This guy is... Ranty.'_ Punk nuzzles against Colt, and the gentle petting of his hair stops. Colt's interest is piqued, and Punk turns to glare at him, getting a soft brush of a kiss to his temple, then Colt's fingers start moving again.

_'Ranty? Ranty on the topic of what?'_ Colt's hand strays down from Punk's hair, curling around the back of his neck, and Punk closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Colt's chest.

_'You remember he was talking on a phone?'_ Punk waits for some kind of acknowledgement from Colt. There's no answer, no carry on keep talking gesture, just a slight tinge of expectancy over the link, and Punk moves so that he's straddling Colt's thighs. _'He got screwed over, and lied to by whoever he was talking to... He's looking for the target... He's looking for me.'_ Punk leans down and kisses Colt, feeling Colt's hands hold him tightly, possessively. People can look for them, for Punk, all they want; he's not letting Colt or himself be found, not until they're good and ready, not until it's in the plan.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you to the lovely ladies and gentlemen who reviewed!<em>

**_Moiself, AshJovillette, littleone 1389, Shiki94, and Brokenspell77._**

_And finally Punk and Colt make their triumphant (?) return to being in charge of a chapter... Yay?_

_If I thought I was concerned about the first part of this story, you have no idea just how freaked out by this one I am...___ Trepidation haunts me with this fic... as such: _**__**_Please leave a review, even if it's just "Hey, that didn't suck", I'd be so far and beyond grateful. Heck even if you thought it did suck, tell me too, something is better than nothing after all. :D_**__**_

**_If you've time and the inclination please have a vote on the poll on my profile! I'd super appreciate it! It's tied at the moment, and so every vote counts!_**


End file.
